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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850435">Hi Dragon, I'm Dad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttacticianmagician/pseuds/ttacticianmagician'>ttacticianmagician</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Byleth has some emotions, Dragons, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Good Parent Jeralt Reus Eisner, Gratuitous cameos of canon characters, Humor, Is this also a fix-it fic? only time will tell, Manakete My Unit | Byleth, Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, Rated T for swearing, Shapeshifting, Slice of Life, Some angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:28:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttacticianmagician/pseuds/ttacticianmagician</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeralt didn’t care if this beast was a demon or a dragon. It hurt his Byleth, so it had to go. He gripped the handle of his sword and pulled it out of its sheath. The metallic ringing woke the dragon from its sleep. Hauntingly deep blue eyes met his brown ones. Jeralt froze in place, unsure what to do next now that he caught its attention. His confusion only grew when, instead of roaring or lunging at him, it let out a low whine.</p>
<p>The normally ruthless captain of mercenaries, aptly named the Blade Breaker, dropped his sword. He recognized the voice of his daughter, no matter what form she took. Jeralt stepped up to the dragon, hands outstretched to show that he wasn’t holding any weapons. Byleth shrank back into the tree and whined again. The pitiful sound broke his heart.</p>
<p>“Kid. Byleth. What happened to you?” He asked with a wavering voice.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>The adventures of a mercenary who does his best as a father, a teenage girl that can turn into a dragon, and the many friends and foes they make along the way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeralt Reus Eisner &amp; My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Draconic Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yes hello welcome to another stupid story that won't leave my head so I had to type it out. I didn't actually pre-type a lot of this, since another long-running fic took up most of my free time, but I do want to write as much as I can of this. I thought that by posting this now, maybe any feedback will encourage me to keep going? </p>
<p>Anyway, there isn't much of an ongoing plot, just random stories here and there. The first chapters I have planned should be sequential, but after a certain point, the timeline is more nebulous, so I can't guarantee that future chapters will be in chronological order.</p>
<p>I wanted to mention that the 'original characters' tags are for Jeralt's mercenaries, clientele, and other such folks. They will have personalities and backstories to make the world more lively and to come up with interesting plots, but this fic will still mostly focus on Jeralt and Byleth. In case you're one of those people who don't like OCs (like my beta reader lol).</p>
<p>Also the 'gratuitous cameos of canon characters' means that other characters will show up sooner or later. Their appearances range from minor cameos to recurring character status. I miiiight have a Golden Deer bias but I do have ideas involving characters from all factions, don't worry. As for the fix-it fic tag? I haven't decided if I'm going to skew canon that much, but since this fic is already basically crack taken seriously I might just do it.</p>
<p>And lastly, the fact that I'm posting this on Father's day is a happy coincidence. Yay~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Like all parents, Jeralt often didn’t know what to do with his kid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he was the kind of person to shrug off responsibilities, he would blame his ineptitude on his own parents. They died so long ago, he could hardly remember what they looked like, much less how they raised him. He only remembered how he was shuffled between distant relatives, family friends, and people that had enough time and money to raise an orphan. Then, once he was old enough, he picked up a sword and enlisted in the army of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, hoping to carve his own place doing the only thing he knew how to do: fighting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt ended up joining the Knights of Seiros, then becoming the captain of said group, after many twists and turns of fate. He was sure that he only achieved his rank because of his martial prowess and friends in high places. Yet somehow, he not only managed to command the knights effectively, he also attracted the affection of a nun he met at Garreg Mach. If he was the romantic kind of person, he would have considered it love at first sight. Still, despite his coarseness and the nun’s frailty, Jeralt and Sitri became fast friends and even faster lovers. Their bond was widely lauded by the folks of the monastery, even by the Archbishop herself. Perhaps because of the encouraging atmosphere, the two of them proceeded to wed under the Garland Moon, and Sitri became pregnant with their daughter not long afterwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then disaster struck. His wife died after a long and arduous labor, leaving behind an infant that didn’t cry, laugh, nor smile. If he was the kind of person to have steadfast loyalty in their liege, he would have brushed aside his concerns, stayed with the Knight of Seiros, and raised his daughter, Byleth, under the monastery’s shadow. But he didn’t survive this long as a knight without having a mind of his own. He noticed how Lady Rhea sequestered his beloved Sitri away during childbirth and refused to let him by her side. He saw how she regarded his newborn daughter with so much adoration, the Archbishop might be mistaken for the baby’s mother. His suspicions that Lady Rhea had done something with his child were only confirmed when he brought Byleth to a doctor. He announced with an incredulous voice that she had no heartbeat, although every other vital sign seemed normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt made up his mind right then and there. He needed to get Byleth away from the Archbishop, before she meddled even further. He faked her death by setting fire to her nursery, then ran away from the monastery with his daughter hidden in his backpack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he was the kind of person with any ounce of responsibility, he would have given up his sword and settled into a more peaceful life for the sake of his newborn child. Maybe he could have built himself a home in a remote village, far away from the Church’s prying eyes. But Jeralt was a fighter, and always would be a fighter. He couldn’t lead an idle life, not when his sword arm was still functional and people would pay good money for it. Better money than he would’ve earned by toiling the fields. So he gave up his dream and returned to a life of fighting. Because of his abilities, he very quickly picked up fellow mercenaries and formed a company that travelled across the continent for jobs both big and small.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt was not all sorts of persons, but at least he wasn’t prideful. He was painfully aware of how childrearing was far beyond his capabilities, so he sought help whenever he could. He asked for advice from parents he met on the road. He paid good money for good doctors whenever Byleth was feeling funny, and then paid them more money to keep quiet about her heart condition. On several extremely dangerous missions that would kill Byleth if she tagged along, he left her with people he could trust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he trained her as much as he coddled her. Jeralt taught Byleth how to use a sword before she could read or write. Life in a mercenary company was unexpected at best, so he needed her to prepare for anything. He did eventually teach her basic literacy though. He wasn’t that bad of a parent. He also taught how to survive in the wilderness with nothing but the clothes on her back, how to haggle and bargain her way through a tough customer, how to fish, how to play cards, how to cook… He tried to teach her how to smile, how to laugh, and how to not creep strangers out, but those skills seemed to be beyond her realm of expertise. Oh well. No kid could be perfect at everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Byleth turned 12 (or was it 13? He lost track of time easily), Jeralt thought that he had a pretty good grasp on parenting. Especially since he still felt like he had no idea what he was doing, and he had just been winging it for a little more than a decade. But his daughter had ways of taking him off guard, of making him doubt his life choices, and today was no exception.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was supposed to be a simple job. Jeralt and his mercenaries agreed to rout some nearby bandits in exchange for a hefty amount of gold that should last them for a while. As a bonus, some families with more spacious houses agreed to lodge them for the night. His scouts reported that these bandits were nothing they couldn’t handle, so Jeralt was going to let Byleth tag along. He had no doubt that she could handle herself. But most people didn’t know his daughter like he did, including the housewife that was boarding Jeralt and Byleth tonight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you crazy? She’s just a young lass! She shouldn’t be fighting men twice her size and none of her heart!” The woman, whose name was Agnes, protested. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She can handle herself. She’s done so before.” Jeralt had no idea how she heard about this, but he didn’t exactly have time to entertain her. He needed to lead his company into battle soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Agnes scoffed. “That’s what men like you always say. Then, when the love of their life dies because of their stupid decisions, they ask themselves, ‘Why didn’t I listen the smart lady who warned me otherwise?’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What am I supposed to do then?” Jeralt asked with a bemused voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your daughter can stay here. I have three sons that she can play with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her children popped up out of nowhere when they were mentioned. Jeralt briefly wondered if they were connected to their mother by some telepathic link, but shook that thought out of his head. This wasn’t his decision to make. This was going to affect Byleth the most, so the choice was ultimately up to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He realized that some parents would object to letting their kid run the show, but Jeralt was raising Byleth to be an independent woman that didn’t need to defer to her father all the time. So he knelt down beside her, ignoring the strange look from Agnes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth, do you want to stay with these kids, or do you want to fight some bandits?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared back blankly. Jeralt knew not to rely on any expressions to guess her current mood or train of thought. Ever since she was just a babe, she never had any visible feelings besides her usual stoicism. But from his past experiences, he could predict how she was going to answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll stay here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s that- What did you say?” Jeralt shot her a bewildered look. Then, as he caught a glimpse of a triumphant smile on the housewife’s face, his look to Byleth morphed to a betrayed one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll stay here.” Byleth repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s that.” Agnes echoed after Jeralt mockingly. “Don’t worry about Byleth. I’ll make sure not a hair on her head is harmed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You better.” Jeralt growled as he stood up. He didn’t have any more time left to argue about either decision. “Just warning you, you have no idea what you’re getting into.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman laughed. “I’ve raised three young boys, I’m sure that a quiet girl like your daughter will be a piece of cake."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt only laughed back before heading out of the door. As much as he would’ve liked to stick around and tease her boasting, he had a job to do. He wasn’t being paid to flap his gums. He was sure that he could hear all about her regrets afterwards, once he was finished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>True to his hunch, the bandits proved to be no problem at all. Jeralt and his mercenaries tore through them like a rampaging whirlwind until none were left. Somehow, the real challenge began when they arrived back at the village. Agnes ran towards him, frantically shouting words that he couldn’t decipher until she got closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your daughter! The demon!” She yelled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck did you call my daughter?!” Jeralt yelled back angrily. He noted that although her three sons were running up alongside her and looked like they'd been thrown off a cliff, Byleth was not with them. Which could only mean…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t calling your daughter anything!” Agnes hissed before her voice immediately softened. “A demon attacked my sons and your daughter while they were playing in the yard! My poor children barely escaped, but your daughter…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt’s fingers gripped the hilt of his blade so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “You let them play unsupervised?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was watching them from inside the house, thank you very much!” Agnes crossed her arms. “But the demon appeared so suddenly while I glanced away, for just a moment mind you, that there was nothing I could do to save your daughter. She disappeared so quickly!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Disappeared. Not dead. That was a marginal relief. “And what happened to the demon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It ran that way. Into the woods.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Agnes pointed in a random direction, towards a grove of trees. Jeralt took his hand off his sword, only to sprint in the direction she pointed at. Yells from behind reminded him that he still had a report to make and a payment to receive, but there were more urgent matters on his mind. Money could wait, his daughter’s life couldn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever this demon was, it didn’t make any effort to hide its tracks. Its clawed footprints were surprisingly small, but no less dangerous, judging from how deep its claws dug into the dirt. Following the obvious trail was a cinch for an experienced tracker like Jeralt. He just didn’t expect to find what he did in a cavity of a dead tree.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a young sleeping dragon, only about the size of a small horse, with scales the color of ash. The most notable feature were its three pairs of horns, all black like the night sky. One pair curved downward, outlining its jaws, another pair pointed backwards, and the third pair spiraled up towards the sky. Sharp yet slender spikes of a similarly dark hue sprouted out of its back, from the back of its head, down its spine, and to the end of its whip-like tail which sported a spade-shaped tip. Although its wings were folded against its sides, Jeralt could see that the membranes between its sinewy fingers were a familiar shade of dark teal. On its forehead was a scale etched with a symbol made of flowing loops and curves. Its silhouette vaguely resembled a flower, or maybe an angelic person with wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt didn’t care if this beast was a demon or a dragon. It hurt his Byleth, so it had to go. He gripped the handle of his sword and pulled it out of its sheath. The metallic ringing woke the dragon from its sleep. Hauntingly deep blue eyes met his brown ones. Jeralt froze in place, unsure what to do next now that he caught its attention. His confusion only grew when, instead of roaring or lunging at him, it let out a low whine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The normally ruthless captain of mercenaries, aptly named the Blade Breaker, dropped his sword. He recognized the voice of his daughter, no matter what form she took. Jeralt stepped up to the dragon, hands outstretched to show that he wasn’t holding any weapons. Byleth shrank back into the tree and whined again. The pitiful sound broke his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kid. Byleth. What happened to you?” He asked with a wavering voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth didn’t move. Jeralt crept over until he was right in front of her. Seeing as she wasn’t going to budge, he sat down and reached out his hands. The palm on his right hand stroked her forehead while the fingers of his left hand brushed against her jawline. Byleth stayed quiet, but she pressed her head into his tender grasp and closed her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He apologized, even though he shouldn’t be the one apologizing. This was all Rhea’s fault. Whatever she did to her as an infant made her into this monster. But he couldn’t hold any hate towards his former employer in his heart. Not right now, when Byleth tugged at his heartstrings with another sad growl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I don’t know what to do. But I’ll fix this. No matter what it takes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The baby dragon (his daughter! He needed to remind himself of that) whimpered again and pushed herself into Jeralt’s arms. He had to be careful not to poke himself with her horns or spines, but he managed to wrap his arms around her skinny neck. Once they were settled into a hug, Byleth sat down on her haunches and curled her tail around her body. Father and daughter remained in their embrace, silent except for their breathing and motionless save for their gentle rocking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth closed her eyes to calm herself. Jeralt closed his eyes to blink back tears, only to open them when something flashed. Byleth’s figure was consumed in a white light that shrank her down until she was girl-sized and without scales, horns, and spikes. She was back to normal. Somehow. The astonished father let out a peal of laughter at his luck. Byleth blinked her very human eyes open, pulled herself away from Jeralt in order to examine herself, then hugged him even tighter. She didn’t utter a single word, nor did she have any hint of emotion besides the strength in her skinny arms, but Jeralt knew how she felt anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them stayed in the forest for a little while longer until Byleth got her bearings. As soon as she was able to walk, they started making their way back to the village. The sun was already sinking towards the horizon, but that mattered little to Jeralt. The townspeople were sure to believe that he slayed the demon once he reappeared with his rescued daughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened between you and the boys?” He asked Byleth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were playing. They thought it was weird I didn’t laugh or smile. They insulted me. Called me a stone statue, a foundling, a witch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt sighed. This tended to happen whenever Byleth hung out with normal kids. But what could have possibly led to her transformation?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then they insulted you. Called you a deadbeat dad that never taught his loinspawn how to be human. I broke one of the boy’s wrists in return.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the severity of her actions. A surge of pride warmed his heart. “Kid, we’ve been over this before. Don’t break people’s bones just because you disagreed with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But they were insulting you. If your reputation is hurt, we won’t get any jobs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t think I can’t hold my own against some snotty brats?” Jeralt ruffled Byleth’s hair. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re looking out for the, uh, reputation of the company. But it’s not worth picking a fight over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth lowered her gaze. That was her way of saying sorry. Figuring that she got the message, Jeralt switched the subject. “So what happened next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of the other boys hit me at the back of the head with a rock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got sucker punched by a kid? I raised you to be better than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I felt… a fire burning inside of me.” Byleth pointedly ignored his remark to continue her story. “The fire raged. Burned my body, until there was nothing left but light. When the light disappeared, I was a dragon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The boys saw you transform?” Jeralt frowned. He didn’t really care about the safety of Agnes’s children at this point, but if they witnessed Byleth turning into a dragon, then that was bad news all around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. They screamed a lot. I was…” Byleth waved her hand in place of the name of the unfamiliar emotion she felt. “Then I ran away, and you found me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you didn’t hurt anyone besides breaking one of their wrists, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nodded. Jeralt was not only freaking out over the fact that his little kid turned into a mythical beast of legend, but also the fact that Byleth had emotions powerful enough to trigger her transformation. She couldn’t name them, apparently, but she felt angry when the boys dragged her father through the metaphorical mud. She felt scared when she accidentally assumed a monstrous form. This was probably a bad time to feel this way, but Jeralt was glad to see that maybe he wasn’t a complete failure at parenting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about those idiots. If anything, you might’ve scared them into becoming good, upstanding citizens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what happens next? Will we still stay at their house?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably not. But I can take care of everything else. You can just rest and try not to get angry over anything else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nodded while mouthing the word ‘angry’ over and over again. They reached the village soon after their discussion had ended. Jeralt sent Byleth over to some mercenaries he could trust while he proceeded to have a little heart-to-heart with Agnes and her litter of vermin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m glad to see that your daughter is safe and sound!” The woman exclaimed. “I was so worried about her! Thank the Goddess that you were able to save her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. About that.” Jeralt stood in a way that accentuated his broad shoulders and spoke in a gravelly voice that strongly suggested to her to not try any bullshit. “Your kids are a bunch of assholes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You heard me right. They were picking on my daughter for no good reason. Why didn’t you step in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Agnes let out an indignant gasp, then crossed her arms. “I told you! I was busy with housework! Besides, boys will be boys!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a terrible excuse and you know it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what about your daughter! She broke poor Owen’s wrist! You should be punishing her instead of lecturing me about how I raise my kids!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Already did.” Jeralt scowled. “Did you even know what your boys said about me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Judging from her abrupt silence, she didn’t. “They called me, and I quote, ‘a deadbeat dad that never taught his loinspawn how to be human’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh… Dearie me… I swear upon the Goddess that I never taught them such vulgar language!” Agnes’s body language softened just a tad, but it wasn’t enough to abate Jeralt’s anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you know what? I may not have given Byleth the best life due to my job, but at least I taught her to not to insult others!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Agnes's face went pale and her eyes were as wide as saucers. Jeralt continued his rant, even if he might be kicking a dead horse at this point. "And this ‘deadbeat dad’ killed the demon that threatened your kids. Before you give it, I don’t want your thanks. I just want to say my piece.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Demons are attracted to bratty shitheads like your boys. You better tell them to watch their mouths, for when there isn’t a sellsword around that can put aside personal grudges to do the right thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt gave the pommel of his sword a tap before turning around and walking away. He desperately wanted to take in Agnes’s bewildered look, but sparing a glance back would only undermine his performance. After his much-needed talk with that woman, he spoke with the leader of the village, collected his payment for the bandit job (which didn't seem like enough now, when taking into account all he went through afterwards), and went to check up on Byleth. His daughter seemed so small while she sat on a log to wait for his return. Yet, Jeralt knew there was an inhuman fire that burned within her tiny frame. Now the question was what he was going to do about that blaze?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a question for another time. “Hey, kid.” He spoke up to get her attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Father.” She replied back tersely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The village leader found us another place to stay. How about we go check it out now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth didn’t respond at first. Her eyes were fixated on the ground and her fingers gripped her wooden perch so tightly, her nails gouged the surface. At least those nails weren’t currently claws that could rend both logs and flesh to shreds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard that we’re staying with a nice old man and his wife this time. No other kids around. The wife bakes a mean apple pie too. She's willing to make us one for our services.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth glanced up, her fingers no longer digging into the log. Food was always a surefire way to her non-beating heart. Now that he thought about it, he supposed food also always appealed to dragons in numerous legends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, it didn’t matter whether Byleth was a dragon or human. She was his daughter first and foremost and forever. Jeralt reached out a hand, Byleth took it, and the two of them walked onwards together.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Draconic Puberty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jeralt has to get used to some changes from both his mercenaries and his daughter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Byleth didn’t turn into a dragon for several days, Jeralt thought that issue was over and done with. Maybe her transformation was a strange dream that he would never have to deal with again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But like with many other parenting issues, he was wrong. Around a week after the incident in the village, Jeralt’s mercenaries were ambushed by a large group of exceedingly courageous bandits. These guys apparently had more confidence than the ones they cleared out, thanks to their vast numbers. It also didn’t help that they took Jeralt’s group by surprise. His men either scrambled to grab their weapons and armor or fought without any equipment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt always had a sword on his person, so he opted to defend his allies that couldn’t fight back. As he coated his blade with blood and filled the air with an acrid, metallic scent, an unnerving roar rang out from across the camp. He spared a glance towards the source of the noise and found an ashen grey dragon biting an arm off a bandit. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze as his tongue laid dormant in his mouth. He had no idea what to say, how to feel. Time only resumed its flow when an arrow from one of his mercenaries, Walter, soared over Byleth’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His daughter screamed at the narrow miss. Wicked claws lashed out in the archer’s general direction. She didn’t strike at anyone, friend or foe, but she would soon if she kept up her rampage. Jeralt ran towards her side, ignoring the rest of the chaos, and didn’t halt until he was right next to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop!” He called out to the mercenaries targeting Byleth. “She’s not the enemy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s she?!” Amelie screeched to a halt to stop herself from skewering Byleth with her lance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll explain later! Just focus on the real enemies!” Jeralt shouted back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Captain, you do know that that’s a beast you’re guarding, right?” Walter did not avert his aim from the dragon he shot earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know! Aim your bow elsewhere or you’ll find termination papers under your pillow tonight! Same goes for everyone else!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt’s threat got to the rest of his comrades. Once he was sure that they could take care of themselves, he turned his attention to Byleth, who had calmed down considerably in her father’s presence. If he had to guess, Byleth got cornered without her sword during the ambush and her panic led to her transformation. His mind swirled with many thoughts, but only one of them made it to his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dragon snorted. Could Byleth not speak to him as a dragon? Well, Jeralt was already used to her short and sometimes wordless responses, so he could work around this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to your sword?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t say anything, instead lowering her pupiless blue eyes downwards. Some reactions remained the same, even across different forms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt made a show out of his sigh. “I’ve told you, time and time again, to always be prepared. If not a sword because it’s too heavy, at least carry a dagger or something. You’re not going to make it in a real fight at this rate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth growled and shook her head. Jeralt’s cross expression deepened. “Really. Don’t rely on your dragon powers to get you out of a tight stitch. Especially when you’re not used to them yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, he knew it was kinda silly to say that, when the dead bandit on the ground proved him wrong. But Jeralt had other reasons to warn her besides her cockiness. If Byleth left any survivors, they would surely talk about the dragon that nearly ate them, and then those rumors might attract unwanted attention…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, kid! What are you doing?” Jeralt rushed over when he noticed Byleth focused on something embedded in a tree. He was able to make out the blue hilt of a dagger in between her claws that were somehow dexterous enough to hold onto such a small object. So she did have her dagger on her body when she was ambushed. She just lost it. Jeralt couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than what he had assumed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt slapped a hand on Byleth’s shoulder. “Nevermind that. Your claws can do so much more damage than that dinky little thing. Now, if you think that your new form can replace common sense on the battlefield, then come with me and help us clear out the rest of these knuckleheads!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth released her grip on the dagger and followed her father into the fight. Jeralt soon found out that it wasn’t just her claws that were deadly, but also her fangs, her tail, and just her overall intimidating figure. Most bandits fled when she showed up, or at least attempted to. Jeralt ordered for no enemy to escape alive, out of fear of rumors that might spread. Luckily, with their opponents scared witless, it was easy for the humans in Jeralt’s mercenary company to cut everyone down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The battleground was cleared out in record time, with Jeralt’s company the victor. As he sheathed his sword, many of his men swarmed around him, abuzz with questions. Now that the fight was over, he couldn’t put them off any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boss! You said you’d explain everything! So what in the Goddess’s name is up with the dragon?!” Amelie practically shouted into his ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt had no idea how to phrase himself without sounding like a lunatic, so he just gave her the first straightforward answer that came to mind. “The dragon is Byleth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re… talking about your daughter, right? The creepy girl that never smiles?” Josh raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bold of him to describe Jeralt’s only child that way. He would have docked his paycheck for that if this entire situation wasn’t so fantastical. “Yeah. That’s her. Don’t ask how she can turn into a dragon. I just found that out last- Hey!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt snapped at Becca, who stuck her hand out to pet Byleth. He worried for a moment that the dragon wasn’t going to take the intrusion of her personal space so lightly, but then he remembered that this was Byleth. She never got bothered by anything petty like this. Becca’s hand touched Byleth’s snout, who just blinked in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh wow, her scales are so soft!” The archer exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She is not a pet, so stop treating her like one!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Captain, uh, hate to be rude, but are you sure that that beast’s your daughter?” Walter piped up. His hands never left his bow, despite Jeralt’s earlier threats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, the dragon could’ve eaten her.” Josh shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you hit your head during battle, allow me to heal you.” Elen offered while her hands lit up with white magic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine!” Jeralt shouted. His raised volume probably didn’t help his case. “Look, this is ridiculous. Kid, please just change back already.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth sat down, pressed her wings against her sides, and wrapped her tail around her feet. She looked a bit like a cat when posed like this. Jeralt chased that image out of his mind to concentrate on the concentrating Byleth. An awkward minute passed in silence. One of his men coughed, breaking the daze that Byleth was in. She emitted a low growl and shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean you can’t turn back?” Jeralt groaned. “Try again!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth stewed in the uneasy atmosphere once more. A few of the mercenaries whispered in the background. Jeralt hoped that they were discussing something constructive, for their sakes. Unfortunately, Byleth was still unable to make any progress, as evident by another shake of her head. Jeralt sighed as he dragged his fingers down his face. If his daughter was stuck as a dragon, this was going to be a long night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, if I may offer a suggestion?” One of the mages, Mariel, chimed in. Even though she was injured during the fight, her astute mind was still working away at problems like usual.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were about to say that you saw her in this form last week, correct? Byleth was able to change back then. Why not recreate the events that led to her de-transformation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That might work.” Jeralt muttered. The only problem now was remembering what they did. Let’s see. He found her sleeping in a tree cavity. He walked over to her and touched her head. Then Byleth came out of her hole to push Jeralt into a hug, and poof. She became human again. It was so simple and heartwarming, like something out of a fairy tale, but Jeralt had no choice but to put his faith in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, Byleth was thinking the same thing. When Jeralt opened his arms as an invitation, she immediately leapt into it. Such a forceful gesture almost bowled him over, but he stood his ground and clung to Byleth’s neck. His daughter squirmed underneath his arms until she settled into a more comfortable position. Once her breathing slowed and she closed her eyes, white light engulfed her body and shrank her down to a more manageable size. The brilliant glow dissipated in a flash, leaving behind a human Byleth that still clung to him like a burr to wool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Will you look at that.” Josh mumbled under his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple of other mercenaries also expressed their bewilderment in various ways. Jeralt didn’t care what they thought. He had his daughter back, and that was all that mattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ok, maybe he did care a little bit. A lot, actually. Not long after Byleth became human again, Jeralt made everyone swear not to tell any outsiders about his daughter’s peculiarity. Then he made Byleth promise not to change into a dragon unless faced with a life-or-death situation. Both of those measures were to ensure Byleth’s safety, first and foremost. He wasn’t sure if either of those oaths were going to stick, but he would try his best to enforce them by any means necessary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As it turned out, not everyone was comfortable rubbing shoulders with a dragon. Walter, who was already antsy about the whole thing, spoke to him privately that night about quitting the company. Jeralt couldn’t force him to stay, so he let him go. On the other hand, Ricardo, a childish mage who thankfully wasn’t as powerful as Mariel, caused a fuss in public, so Jeralt had no choice but to kick his ass out in public. And as if he didn’t already have enough of a headache, Jeralt woke up to a letter written by Jeff, one of his veteran knights. His neat handwriting spoke of a family he must care for, hesitations about working with a child who could shapeshift into a monster, blah blah blah. The point was he was down another mercenary, and a good one at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt couldn’t remember so many mercenaries quitting in such a short timeframe. They all tolerated Byleth’s oddities before, so what was one more weird trait? Then again, as her father, Jeralt might just have a high tolerance to Byleth. He couldn’t judge everyone else accordingly, not when even he found himself wondering if this was really happening or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Life decided to afford him some breaks though. The remaining mercenaries decided to stick with Jeralt and his draconic daughter. A good portion of them avoided the latter whenever possible, a few people continued on like nothing ever happened, and the kindest mercenaries in the company took it upon themselves to be as supportive as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Byleth, I know how confusing it is to have your body go through so many changes." Jeralt overheard Elen talking to Byleth one day. "But please understand that there's always help when you need it. Don't be afraid to ask questions to your father, or me, or any other members of the company."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt walked up to them and cleared his throat. "Elen, my daughter is a bit too young to have that kind of talk."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh?" The cleric glanced up with a surprised expression that quickly shifted into a sheepish one. "I wasn't talking about puberty. I was talking about her dragon form."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah. Right." Jeralt muttered. He couldn't help but feel relieved that he was just jumping to conclusions. He didn't want to have the birds and bees talk with Byleth on top of everything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His awkwardness was apparently a signal for one of the other female mercenaries had to butt in with her own goddess damned opinion. "But Byleth is around the right age to start puberty!" Amelie piped up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you want to argue about it, come over here and face me!" Jeralt yelled back. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a conversation he was going to shout across the camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's right though." Elen concurred. "I was around Byleth's age when my periods first started."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?" Jeralt sounded more skeptical than he should have, judging from Elen's puzzled expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. You do know that girls start puberty earlier than boys… right?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt swore under his breath while he spared a glance towards Byleth. The young girl was blank-faced as always, except when she drank from her cup of milk. As far as he was concerned, if Byleth didn't care for this topic, then neither did he.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Look, can we talk about this later? There's more important things to worry about."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course." Elen said with a knowing smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the end of that incredibly awkward conversation. Jeralt threw himself into his work so he didn't have to think about it anymore, all while keeping an eye on Byleth. Fortunately for him, Byleth didn’t shapeshift again, so the subject was never brought up again. At least around him. He was sure that his mercenaries had plenty to gossip about, but instead of paying them any mind, he busied with other important matters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like Diego. A few days after that interesting talk, the middle-aged man potent in black magic wanted to speak to him in private. Of course someone was thinking about leaving, right when Jeralt was getting used to their smaller numbers. Still, he had to hear them out. That evening, Jeralt herded Diego into his tent and drew up the necessary papers. He was about to start discussions when Byleth poked her head through the tent flap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Father."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah kid?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Byleth didn't answer back, Jeralt looked up from his papers. Byleth had her mouth open, as if she was going to answer, but quickly shut it when she saw the documents and the other man in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nevermind. I'll ask someone else." She said hastily before leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt stared at the space she was in, then shrugged. If Byleth gave up so easily, she probably didn't have anything important to say. He resumed his own business without a second thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have a strange child there." Diego chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What, you just noticed that now?" Jeralt laughed back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean, of course I noticed before. It’s kinda hard not to. But turning into a dragon really is something else."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell me about it." Jeralt sighed. He scrawled his name on an important looking parchment, then passed the parchment and quill over to Diego.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diego picked up the quill and hovered its tip over the line that required his signature. Once he signed it, he would be officially gone from Jeralt's mercenary group. Yet the mage hesitated. Quitting was Diego’s idea, so what prevented him from cutting ties with the company completely?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt got his answer soon enough. “I do have a question for you, if you care to oblige me one last time.” Diego said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shoot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you not in the least bit concerned about your daughter? You’ve been taking her dragon form remarkably well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt inhaled. It was true that he hadn’t panicked about dragon Byleth as much as he thought he would. He actually got more flustered about her eventual puberty than her shapeshifting. He supposed part of his calmness stemmed from the fact that Byleth was always weird, a fact that Jeralt always knew. His theory that Rhea tampered with her body only helped him accept Byleth's new form, as strange as that may sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, becoming a dragon was easier to deal with than becoming a woman. Once Byleth mastered her draconic abilities, she would have a much easier time fending for herself. As long as she kept them a secret, of course. On the other hand, puberty brought all sorts of neverending headaches. Periods, mood swings, teenage romance and heartbreaks… Jeralt briefly wondered if his own anxieties were normal. It was too bad that Jeff, the only other parent of his company, left before he could ask him about this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obviously, he couldn’t relay any of these thoughts to Diego, a man that had only been with the company for a blink of an eye compared to Jeff. So Jeralt parsed it all down to a simple statement. “Yeah, well, after years of killing people for a living, I’m used to all sorts of crazy stuff. It takes a lot to freak me out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what about your men?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. “If you have a point, you better get to it straightaway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diego sighed and leaned back in his chair a little bit. “Fine. The point is that your daughter isn’t exactly human, is she? She never smiles, never cries, always prefers violence over diplomacy, among other things. And now she can turn into a dragon. Perhaps she was always a monster, and it’s only a matter of time before she abandons her human guise. And when that happens, well, her dragon form isn’t going to be that small forever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth is human. H-U-M-A-N.” Jeralt spelled out his last word. “For fuck's sakes, she was only able to turn into a dragon since last week! That doesn't mean anything! If you weren’t already leaving, I would’ve fired you on the spot for those comments.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t shank the messenger. I’m just voicing what other people are thinking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How many other people?” Jeralt’s right hand crept towards the sword at his hip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough to stage a mutiny if we all banded together.” Jeralt wanted to wipe that smug grin off of Diego’s face, but the mage kept on talking. “But you’re a good man, Jeralt. We don’t want to get rid of you that quickly. So here’s what we came up with. If your daughter leaves, we’ll stay. You can kick her out yourself, or we can mercy kill her. But I’m partial to handing her over to some colleagues of mine, personally. They would be very interested in a girl who could turn into a dragon, and they would pay good coin for our donation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt’s pulse roared in his head, coloring his vision red. He didn’t care about the stupid, twisted logic Diego was presenting. This was his own fucking daughter he was talking about. His own flesh and blood, the light of his life, the only thing he had left of Sitri.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had only a few words for the slimy bastard. “You. Are. Unbelievable. I’m so fucking glad that I’m getting rid of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the only warning Diego got before Jeralt stood up and drew his blade. Diego launched himself backwards with a quickly conjured Thunder spell that arced to the left. Jeralt dodged the bolt of lightning, but Diego did the same to his sword swipe. Before the mage could cast again, Jeralt kicked up the mini table that once housed the resignation papers so that it blocked a second Thunder. He grabbed the leg of the table to shield himself from yet another electrical blast. If Diego could only rely on one spell, then he was really glad that he was getting the boot, one way or another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt thought too soon. Blisteringly hot flames surrounded Diego’s hands, bathing the insides of the captain’s tent in orange light. Jeralt threw the table at Diego just as his Fire spell connected with his makeshift shield. The table was consumed by a burst of flames, as well as the papers they were working on, as well as a number of Jeralt’s possessions. But Jeralt didn’t even notice the floating ashes around him. His fury burned hotter than the magical blaze that he stepped through in order to reach Diego. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-wait! You must really think about what I said!” The mage had fallen over from the close-quarters explosion. He scrambled backwards to distance himself from Jeralt’s sword. “It’s not worth protecting that girl any longer! You don’t know what you’re getting into!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt tilted his head to crack his neck. “Yeah, I don’t know. But at least I know that you’re full of shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diego whimpered as he hastily prepared another spell, but Jeralt’s sword already plunged downwards. It stabbed the traitorous mage through the heart just as cackling electricity jolted onto his skin. Jeralt grunted, then yowled in pain as unnatural lightning coursed through his body and paralyzed it. The Thunder spell flashed erratically, blinding him for a few seconds. Once the magic died down, he blinked and found himself over a dead Diego.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt didn’t have time to recuperate before a now-familiar roar echoed outside his tent. Shit. Diego's meeting was just a distraction, a ploy to separate him from his daughter, wasn't it? He rushed outside, ready to save her from the other mutineers, only to be greeted by a dragon with blood on her snout and claws. He noticed with a start that there was a dead body by her feet, and another body skewered by her pointy tail. She had dragged that corpse from where she was attacked, leaving behind a bloody trail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth!” Jeralt yelped. He didn’t think twice about running over to give her the biggest hug of her life. Even when he grasped her neck tightly, the dragon didn’t immediately transform back. Her muscles remained tense, like she was anticipating another wave of enemies. Jeralt had to embrace her for a good solid minute before she relaxed enough to shift back into her natural state. The long hug soothed him as well. His heart no longer provided the adrenaline needed to stave off pain, and he became intensely aware of the various burns and bruises all over his body. He would have sat down to rest if he didn’t have to hold his daughter up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time she returned to normal, the mercenaries that hadn’t betrayed Jeralt gathered around the father-daughter duo in grateful silence. Some of them had bloodstained weapons, indicating that they too took care of some mutineers. Jeralt eyed the small crowd around them, lamenting how small his company had gotten after this mess. Before they were ambushed by bandits, before Byleth transformed to drive them off, there were 13 other people under his employ. Now, after all the cold feet and bloodshed, he only had five loyal mercenaries remaining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Captain. We’re all that’s left.” Amelie proclaimed, confirming his suspicions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh. Amelie. Give them a moment!” Becca nudged the woman next to her to be quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright.” Jeralt murmured as he untangled himself from Byleth. His daughter held onto his shirt while he turned around to address the pitifully small mercenary group. “Everyone, go clean yourselves up. Bury the dead. Let’s make the rest of the night as peaceful as possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you, Captain?” Mariel asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine. Just gotta get a grip on everything that’s happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt pulled Byleth away from the gathering and towards his tent. Diego’s Fire spell didn’t burn the structure down, but the fire and smoke did ruin a lot of his items. Not to mention the mage’s cold, dead body was in the middle of the mess. On second thought, maybe the two of them could sleep under the stars tonight. This was going to take a while to clean up. He might even have to buy a new tent after this. And not just a new tent. The mercenary leader realized that he also had to shell out for medical supplies, actual room and board to heal up in, new equipment to replace damaged stuff, and worst of all, more heads to bolster their numbers…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The money they earned from the village last week wasn’t going to last them much longer. Jeralt’s mind spun with so many foul thoughts, he almost didn’t hear Byleth speak up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my fault.” She said, barely above a whisper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you say?” Jeralt whirled around to face her. Her blue eyes pointed towards the ground in a show of unwarranted apology.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took awhile for her to formulate a response. While she spoke, her voice trembled with uncharacteristic meekness. “I went to ask Irva about something. She roped Kandice along to help me. While we were alone, they tried to capture me. Said I was going to earn them a lot of money. I tried to fight back with my dagger, but they disarmed me so easily. If I hadn’t transformed-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kid.” Jeralt knelt down and stroked Byleth’s cheek. “It’s alright. Forget about the dagger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you said-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what I said. But you also gotta use everything you got in a fight. Including your dragon powers.” Jeralt bopped the tip of her nose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth’s expression brightened a bit. “So I can turn into a dragon whenever I want to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>whenever</span>
  </em>
  <span> whenever.” Jeralt laughed softly. “Just, don’t ever hold back, ok? Not that you did, anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He still remembered the ravaged bodies of the two women that Byleth dragged with her. Seriously, she had nothing to worry about besides the limitations she placed on herself. The limitations that Jeralt inadvertently placed on her. He felt a mite guilty for saying those things, when he hadn’t stopped to think about how Byleth felt about her draconic self. Maybe she had been struggling with the concept of restraint this whole time. Yeah, what he told her before was a good lesson, but so was this. Except when Diego’s accursed words floated around in the back of his mind…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you ask Irva anyway?” He decided to change the subject before those thoughts consumed him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth opened her mouth, then closed it. She must have asked the older woman the same thing she was going to ask Jeralt. He regretted not giving her a moment to hear her out. If he did, perhaps he would have avoided this entire mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kid. It’s ok. I won’t get angry or anything.” Jeralt placed a hand on Byleth’s shoulder. He might not know what to say if she asked about dragon stuff, but he should be able to fumble out a response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... I have blood on my underwear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeralt’s hand immediately fell off of Byleth’s shoulders. Of all the crazy happenstances that happened today, this definitely took the cake. He cursed his past self for putting off a vital conversation that would have been much easier to hold earlier, before an attempted mutiny and kidnapping occurred.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. That’s perfectly normal.” Jeralt breathed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what Irva and Kandice said.” Byleth mentioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. They may be dumbfucks who tried to take on a dragon, but they can be right about some things.” Jeralt stood up. He was sorely tempted to delay this talk too, but if today’s events taught him anything, it’s that he really shouldn’t procrastinate any longer. He had to put aside his own awkwardness for his daughter. It was what a father would do, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he couldn't help but feel out of his league. “Ugh, I'm going to need a woman's touch to get through this." Jeralt pinched the bridge of his nose before holding out a hand towards Byleth. "Come on. Let’s go get Elen and we'll talk this over together.” </span>
</p>
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